An American in Dublin: A Trip to Yogism Frozen Yogurt
For our latest instalment of ‘An American in Dublin’ Emma, our resident froyo expert took a visit to Yogism to sample their delicious offerings:
For the uninitiated, I understand how the recent frozen yogurt craze can seem perplexing. I’m here to help. While I don’t like to be a braggart, you see, I am a bit of an expert when it comes to delicious frozen treats.
Frozen yogurt—we devotees call it “froyo”; some people prefer the term “frogurt”, but they are wrong—is tarter than gelato or ice cream and has a slightly different texture. Because it’s made from yogurt and not cream, it has less added fat than ice cream and is easier for lactose intolerant folks to digest. Also, I hear that froyo has probiotics; I’m not sure what that means, but if you’re into that sort of thing, there you go. Don’t worry, though — it doesn’t taste healthy. I couldn’t care less about probiotics, and choose froyo over ice cream because it tastes like the food of the gods. (This has not been verified, but feels plausible.)
As much as I adore froyo, until recently, I didn’t realize that it was available in Dublin. When I heard of Yogism in George’s St. Arcade, I was delighted and slightly suspicious. I carry Pinkberry and Sixteen Handles, two American froyo chains, loyalty cards in my wallet, and I’m a huge believer in brand loyalty. Would Yogism stack up? Still, I was more excited than suspicious, and knew I had to make a sojourn.
Here I am yesterday afternoon, before entering the hallowed gate of George’s Arcade.
Note the gorgeous weather. It’s like the universe wanted froyo to get in my belly. Not that grey clouds, thunder, or a hailstorm could have kept me away, but it was still nice to get validation from the universe that I was making the right decision. Look! My jacket is even unzipped!
I went to Yogism at about 2:15pm on a Tuesday, and the place was packed. Mostly cheerful younger people, many of whom were Instagramming and tweeting pictures of their froyo. (Parenthetically, if you are a cheerful young person who is looking for a probiotic-loving romantic partner, I would recommend starting your search at Yogism. It’s definitely a cool-kid hangout.)
How does Yogism work? Well, you start by choosing a size: an 8oz cup, 12oz, or 16oz. Then you’re in full control of your froyo experience: you pull a lever and serve yourself. There are four flavors: natural and chocolate are standards, and then there’s one fruity and one sweet offering every day. You can choose however many flavors you want.
Some people go the sweet route, loading up a chocolate or peanut butter froyo with brownie bites and gummy bears and butterscotch and what have you. I prefer my ice cream sweet and my froyo fruity, so I went for the natural froyo and piled on the fresh fruit: kiwi, strawberry, raspberry, pineapple, coconut shavings, and almond slivers. And also a brownie bite, because, while not consistent with my fruity approach, I wanted to try a brownie bite.
Your froyo’s price is based on its weight. Before you put it down on the scale, however, you guess the weight. The founder/owner Stephen, or whoever is working (the Yogist? let’s call them Yogists), will give you a 100-gram range to help you out. Crossfit Dublin. Stephen said mine—a ladylike serving in an 8oz cup—was between 150 and 250 grams. If you guess correctly—to the gram—your froyo is free. Great marketing gimmick.
Unfortunately, by the time we got to this stage I was too excited to remember to take a photo of my finished product.
Being American and unaccustomed to kilograms, I was at a disadvantage here. I guessed my froyo was 220 grams. My colleague Karl, after great deliberation, went with 195g. We met a charming fellow named Hugh, who used to work at Yogism and is now one of those cheerful probiotic-loving young people who hang out there. I had Hugh guess the weight too: 194g. And then Stephen: 178g.
It was 174g.
Again, I was at a disadvantage.
Most small froyos come to between €3 and €3.50; a medium is normally between €4 and €5. And you’ll never pay more than €7.50, which is a HUGE amount of froyo and ought never to be consumed by one person.
As I brought my spoon to my mouth, Stephen watched me anxiously.
“So?” he asked. “Compared to Pinkberry?”
I hesitated. And took another bite. I paused and made a pensive, thoughtful face.
“I don’t think,” I said carefully, “I could tell the difference in a blind taste test.”
Yogism froyo tastes just like anything I’d get at home and I’d recommend it to even the most brand-loyal froyo lovers. It’s refreshing, smooth, and perfectly tart, and the fruit (delivered daily) is fresh and tasty. Great number of topping choices too. Just fab.
As I was scarfing down my froyo and beaming with delight, I noticed these brightly-coloured, stylin’ aprons hung up as wall décor. See?
Adorable, right? But the Yogists don’t actually wear them! I asked Stephen what was up with that.
“Um,” he said. “We haven’t worn them for a while.” He seemed confused by my exasperation. I, however, know a stylin’ look when I see one, and I saw unused potential here.
Luckily, what Stephen lacks in style, he makes up for with good humour and a willingness to cooperate.
Look how thrilled he is to be wearing the apron!
My suggestion? Not only should the Yogists wear these adorable aprons, but they should be available for sale. I’d buy one. (Probably the blue, because I look swell in it.) Let’s get on that, folks.
And keep up the good work.